


with quiet words i'll lead you in and out

by youcomecrash



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, shifting point of view
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-25 01:38:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcomecrash/pseuds/youcomecrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis' overworked and agitated and takes it out on everyone in the band. Well, everyone except Harry.</p>
<p>(At the base of it, Louis has had a terrible day and if Harry has to fuck the tension out of him, he will.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	with quiet words i'll lead you in and out

**Author's Note:**

> This is an older one-shot of mine. Previously posted on tumblr and livejournal. The POV shifts around a little and it's set around the first six or so months of 2012.

It all started with a misplaced shoe.

Or perhaps it didn't start there, exactly. Harry's sure that a shoe wasn't completely to blame for Louis' insufferableness all day. He knows that it was probably more the 5a.m. wake-up call, the rush in wardrobe and makeup, the screaming sea of bodies that they had to push through as they went from venue to venue and then it was  _interviewinterviewinterview_  and  _signingsigningsigning_  and don't get him wrong, Harry wouldn't trade their life for anything. But some days it's hard to handle. Some days some of them just need a moment to breathe and not feel completely swallowed up by it all.

Harry understands Louis' frustration, which seems to have gone past frustration at this point if he's honest.

He thinks it probably crossed that line somewhere back at the mall signing from earlier, when Louis had gone to sit next to him at the table before security had tapped him on the shoulder and forced him down a chair. When Liam had offered an apologetic look, the response on Louis' face was anything but understanding. Harry remembers it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Louis is usually everything bright and laughing and carefree. But rarely, as Harry has now come to know, Louis gets to a certain point where he breaks and Harry's never been on the receiving end of it himself, but it isn't exactly something he can say he ever wants to experience.

Harry had tried to brush it aside during the signing, even though he desperately wanted to reach out and touch his best friend to let him know, if nothing else, that he was there with him. But the sea of people just kept coming and for the next hour everything else had been forcibly drowned out.

When it was finally over and their hands were about to fall off, he expected a general feeling of relief to sweep through them all. But he couldn't ignore the palpable tension that still lingered in the air, still there when they were escorted to the car and on the way back to the hotel. He had spared a glance or two at Louis when he thought he wasn't looking. He was in the middle row of seats, head pressed against the window and eyes shut tight. Zayn had already sat beside him so Harry had taken the seat opposite, facing them, and watched.

He had been able to tell instantly that Louis just wanted to be left alone. He'd known his best friend long enough to know his tells. That was why they worked so well together. But Harry's fingers had still itched at his side.

The first time they had touched each other, really touched each other in a way other than strictly friendly, was only a little less than two months ago and now that they had opened that door it was almost impossible for Harry to quell the burning in his limbs to reach out and touch, press, kiss every inch of Louis' skin. Even in instances like there in the car when he was blaring an invisible DO NOT TOUCH sign.

But he had, somehow. He had just carefully watched Louis until they arrived at the hotel, watched as he breathed in deeply and clenched his fists whenever Zayn would accidentally bump into him or Niall would laugh obnoxiously loud at one of Liam's terrible jokes. Harry remembers he could literally feel the annoyance rolling off of his best friend so much that it had started to fill him up as well.

Harry had waited for Louis to leave the car first and followed behind silently, as if somehow he could stay close enough to intervene if someone tried to prod Louis' bubble. He just needed to get them back to their room. Everything would be okay then.

And they were almost home free until Harry and Louis' room somehow became a crashpad. It was all Harry could do to swallow back his protests as Niall, Liam and Zayn had shuffled into the room and tossed themselves onto the furniture tiredly. Harry had tentatively glanced at Louis who was standing behind him, and his heart lurched a little. Louis looked a mix between cross and utterly fucking exhausted and Harry almost wanted to cry for him. He offered a small, and what he had hoped was a reassuring smile, but still refrained from touching him.

And then the shoe happened.

"Fuck!"

Harry is startled at the first word he's heard Louis say in hours. He whirls around to find the boy hunched over slightly, picking up a stray black high top from the floor. There's not time to stop it from happening at this point so Harry just braces himself.

"Zayn, I swear to fucking God, if you leave any more of your shit in my floor and I trip over it--"

"Are you fucking serious, mate?" Zayn is up immediately, eyes everywhere all over the room, "You have shit  _everywhere_  in this room-"

"-Well it's my shit and I know where it is and I don't fucking have to trip over it-"

"-doesn't even make any sense and how do you even know that's mine, this isn't even my room-"

"-your's because you were in here earlier trying on Harry's shoes and you left it in the middle of the-"

"-well fucking  _excuse me_ , mate it's not like I did it on purpose. You really need to chill out-"

"-don't fucking tell me-"

"Stop! Both of you!"

It's Liam, who's now stood up from the chair in the corner, coming to stand between them. His hand reaches out to push Louis back but the older boy throws his hand off and goes to sit in the oversized chair beside the bed. Zayn backs off when Liam touches him and doesn't speak again. Liam's eyes stay trained on Louis and Niall is dead quiet from his spot on the bed. Harry just watches silently.

"Louis," Liam tries but gets no response, "What's really going on here? You've been doing this all day and it's getting a bit ridiculous. If you can't handle something you need to-"

"It's not really any of your business," Louis spits.

"The hell it's not. This band is my business. Why are you acting like this?"

"'Cause _i'm fuckin' agitated_ , mate."

"But  _why_?" He starts in the older boy's direction, "Lou-"

"Just leave it." Harry finally speaks, placing his hand on Liam's arm to halt his movements and he doesn't know if he sees a brief look of relief cross over Louis' face or if he imagined it.

Liam stops and Harry hopes the look he's giving him is enough.  _Not now_ , he thinks and prays Liam will just understand and not push it.

He seems to, as he silently gestures for Niall and Zayn to make their exit at that point. Before leaving himself, he taps Harry's arm and glances back at the seat Louis' in. Harry understands when he sees Liam's cardigan thrown across the back of the chair. He nods before going over to retrieve it and tosses it back to him across the room. Liam eyes him in silent question from the doorway, wondering if he'll join and follow them out.

Harry doesn't want to leave but doesn't know if he should stay. So he finally gives into the burning of his fingers, tentatively placing his hand on the space between Louis' shoulder and neck. He tries to ignore the pang in his chest when the older boy flinches slightly. But in the next moment he seems to almost deflate, releasing a deep breath and letting his eyes slip shut. Harry tests the situation, squeezing his fingers lightly into the other boy's flesh. But Louis still doesn't fully acknowledge him so he looks back to see if Liam is still waiting at the door, because maybe Louis really does need to be left alone for a while.

His hand falls from Louis' shoulder but before he can make it one step toward the door, soft fingers are tugging against his own, pulling him back.

Liam hovers a moment longer, waiting for Harry to leave with them, resigns when he realizes the younger boy won't. (Of course Harry won't leave Louis. Even when he's being a proper dick.)

Harry doesn't see Liam leave, eyes now trained on Louis, who's still not looking at him, but whose grip is tight around his hand. He barely registers the click of the door as it echoes into the room.

With that sound, Louis finally looks up at him. He doesn't smile, just pulls Harry's hand back to his neck and kneads his fingers with his own.

"Come here," he whispers and Harry's suddenly on fire.

He tries to sit in the open space next to Louis but doesn't make it there before Louis pulls him down into his lap so that Harry is straddling his waist. And then he just hugs him, arms sliding beneath his blazer and tshirt, softly grazing the expanse of skin there. Harry sighs into the warmth of Louis' neck, wrapping an arm behind it and hugging back.

"M'sorry," Louis mumbles into Harry's hair, "for being such a twat. I just..."

Harry kisses him softly on the throat and Louis stutters and stops talking completely. His hands rub mindless circles into Harry's back and he just sighs deeply again, tension leaving his body slowly but surely.

"Do you just want to take a nap or something?" Harry asks, pulling away enough to face the other boy. Louis' eyes are dark, hooded.

"No." He shakes his head and Harry groans when Louis' hands find his bum and squeeze firmly.

Harry gasps out a small laugh, "Okay. We can do that too."

And his heart swells because he thinks it's the first time he's seen Louis genuinely smile all day.

Harry sits back on Louis' lap and pulls his blazer off, followed by his shirt. Louis' eyes grow even darker as his eyes rake over Harry's exposed chest and torso.

"Up," Harry whispers, prompting Louis to lift his arms so he can slide his shirt over his head. When they're both shirtless, Harry finally leans down and slides his mouth against Louis' softly. His fingers come around the older boy's skull, holding him in place as he works his mouth over his. And then Louis' hands are everywhere on Harry's skin, pulling, tugging and sliding over every inch available to him. Harry doesn't want this to get out of control too soon though. He doesn't want to get distracted from the task at hand. At the base of it, Louis has had a terrible day and if Harry has to fuck the tension out of him, he will.

He places one last kiss to the other boy's lips before sitting back. Louis whimpers softly but Harry's hands are tugging on the waist of his pants so he doesn't complain for long. Harry deftly tugs at the buttons of Louis' trousers and digs his knees into the couch to prop himself up so he can slide the pants and briefs off of the older boy.

"You too," Louis mutters, hands reaching out.

"It's okay," Harry says, "Later. Right now I just want to-"

"No, please." And it's one look and Harry can't resist him. It doesn't surprise him because it's not like he's ever been able to.

So Harry stands and quickly pulls his own clothes off so now they're both naked, before moving to straddle Louis again and Louis' hands are immediately back on his bum and lower back, squeezing and molding until Harry is writhing against him. Harry kisses his neck once, twice before he starts trailing down his body.

"Just try to relax."

Louis makes small, unintelligible noises as Harry moves down his chest and stomach, mouth sucking into his hot skin in random places, his soft tongue flicking against him ever so often. Louis' hands card through Harry's hair, pulling it every which way against his own chest and he kisses the crown of his head lovingly just as Harry's warm mouth closes around the tip if his aching cock.

He whimpers and throws his head against the back of the couch. His left hand moves to grip Harry's upper back and the other rests in his hair, not pushing him down, but just stroking his scalp lightly and instead of  _suck me off_  it feels more like  _don't ever leave_.

Harry laps at the head of Louis' cock, swirling down his shaft. One hand holds him steady at the base and the other cups his balls, squeezing lightly and  _fuck_ , Harry's really good at this. So good Louis can't believe he ever thought he'd had good head before he and Harry started doing this. Then Harry starts humming around him and jerking him quickly in tandem. Louis knows he's trying to get him to come now.

"Wait, wait..." Louis gently urges Harry to halt his movements, though it takes every bit of will power in his body. Harry's mouth comes off of him with a slick pop and Louis can't even look at him, his cheeks flushed and his lips - his fucking lips - are so swollen and red and wet. Louis has to rest his head against the back of the couch again and close his eyes, because he almost came just from that sight alone and he wonders in the back of his mind just how fucked he really is.

"What's wrong?" Harry's husky voice fills the air.

Louis looks down at him and smiles softly.

"Nothing. Nothing, just-" he leans down and draws Harry up slightly so he can kiss him softly, tongue swiping over his pouty lips and Louis can taste himself there but it doesn't matter.

He pulls away and rests his forehead against Harry's and sees the younger boy looking back at him expectantly--like even though he's rock hard and gagging for it, he'd still stop and do whatever Louis wanted him to. Maybe even something as ridiculous as going down the street to get him a fucking ice cream cone and the knowledge of that sends something scattering through his chest. The pads of his thumbs rest against Harry's cheekbones and he kisses him one more time.

"I want to fuck you," he breathes. Harry has a sharp intake of breath and his eyes flick up to Louis' once before he surges up and kisses the older boy again, more hungrily than before.

"Can I?" Louis mumbles between kisses. They've only gone that far twice before. The last time being about two weeks ago. And Harry hasn't pushed but he's been dying to do it again, hasn't been able to admit to Louis how much he fucking loves it.

"Fuck. Yes."

And then he's quickly moving over to his suitcase, which is thankfully at the end of the bed, to grab the bottle of lube in the outer pocket. Louis brings his hand to his own cock and pulls a few times, hardening himself up even more.

Harry groans at the sight and resists the urge to touch his own dick, hovering, aching and hard between his pale thighs.

When Harry makes it back to the oversized chair, Louis sits up and ushers him onto the bed instead. He lets him slide onto his stomach and waits until his hips are arched up off the mattress, knees digging into the sheets.

"Fuck," Louis curses, stroking the side of Harry's thighs, "You look so good like this."

He grabs the bottle from Harry's hand before he can open it.

"Let me," he whispers and Harry groans before nodding slightly.

Louis pours a generous amount of liquid over the fingers of his right hand, while his left goes to pull Harry apart and he almost comes apart from the way Harry twitches when Louis' slick fingers drag against his hole. He spreads the lube around the surface of the tight muscle before slowly pushing the tip of his index finger in. He's met with an almost unyielding resistance but Harry's soft moans encourage him to keep going. Once he's got his index all the way in to the knuckle Harry bucks back against him.

"It's okay. Keep going. Another one."

Louis' heart hammers in his chest. Slowly, he pulls his finger out and on the slide back in adds his middle finger as well, stretching Harry slowly. The younger boy's head is down against the mattress now, eyes screwed shut and Louis halts his movements again.

Harry groans, "No. Please. Keep going. I want you to. I want you in me. Please."

"Fuck, Haz. I don't- You're so tight." He starts pumping his fingers in and out slowly, giving Harry what he wants.

"Yes.  _Fuck_ , yes. Just--that. Don't stop."

Soon he feels Harry opening up against the drag of his fingers and he's able to push a third in and Harry just bucks back onto them, fucking himself and Louis doesn't know how much longer he can do this without coming apart himself.

"Enough," Harry groans, "I'm okay now. Just- Just want you inside me."

"You sure?"

"Yes. Fuck, please."

Louis removes his fingers gently and pulls Harry apart while slicking his cock up with his other hand with the remaining lube. He holds himself at the base and guides himself to Harry's opening. Even after fingering him he's still so impossibly tight and Louis has to concentrate on controlling his breathing so he doesn't come everywhere and ruin this. The press of the head of his cock against Harry's opening causes Harry to moan and push back against him sloppily. Louis grips his hip to steady him and keeps pushing until he's halfway sheathed inside of him.

Harry makes a strangled noise and his left hand fumbles back behind him, searching. Louis finally understands what for when Harry latches onto his hand that's curled around the younger boy's hip. Louis lets him, slotting his fingers with Harry's and then he begins to pump in and out slowly, still only halfway inside. After several slides Harry finally starts responding, moving his hips back to meet Louis' soft thrusts.

"Is this good?" Louis asks, and it just so happens to be at the exact moment that Harry moans rather loudly. They both laugh because they can't help it.

"What do you think?" Harry asks breathless, keening again when Louis thrusts a little deeper, more confident.

Louis feels it building in his abdomen, that slow, deep burn licking up his veins. But Harry has slowed down somewhat and Louis is pulled back to when the younger boy squeezes his fingers.

"You okay?" Louis asks.

"Yes. I want-" And then he's craning his neck up from the bed to look at Louis, cheeks flushed crimson, "Can I ride you?"

Louis halts his movements abruptly, that string of words and the hopefulness in Harry's voice doing something violent to his insides. He bites his cheek to keep from groaning.

He doesn't respond verbally, just pulls out of Harry and gently ushers him to roll over so he can sit himself up against the pillows. Harry wastes no time straddling his waist then, one hand propped against Louis' chest while the other reaches behind to grip Louis' cock, guiding it back to his hole. Louis doesn't have time to think before Harry is sinking back onto him, this time all the way in until Louis is balls deep and Harry's own cock is trapped between them, bobbing against his stomach.

Harry's hands grip his shoulders tightly and he doesn't even take time to re-adjust before he's pumping himself up and down on Louis' cock, setting a steady rhythm. Louis growls and curses and generally loses his mind for several moments at the feeling of it all, how it keeps getting better and better every time they do this. Harry pushes their upper bodies flush together and wraps his arms around Louis' neck, burying his head there and Louis' hands grip the back of his head and then his back before coming to rest on his hips and now they're alternating between Harry riding him and Louis snapping his hips up quickly, fucking Harry hot and fast.

"Oh fuck," Louis groans, his movements becoming sloppy as his orgasm builds fast. Harry continues slamming down onto him, faster now. And while one arm remains around Louis' neck, the other slips between them to grip his own aching cock.

Louis feels like he might fly apart any second now because it's just too much, too good. Blindly, he reaches for Harry's hand between them and removes it so he can jerk him off instead. He's thick in his hand and Louis pumps hard and fast and nuzzles into Harry's hair, nosing him until Harry pulls back enough to look him in the eye.

"I'm about to. Fuck, you feel so good," Harry smiles, tries to kiss him but mostly only catches the corner of his mouth, his own movements becoming jerky.

"I just- God, I fucking love you, Haz."

A good sort of pain slices through Harry's chest and he returns his head back to the crook of Louis' neck, his words hot in the older boy's ear.

"Tell me that again when i'm not riding your cock."

Louis comes undone then, a strangled cry leaving his throat and fingers digging into Harry's hips hard enough to leave bruises. Four, five, six shaky thrusts later and Harry's coming too, hot and wet and everywhere between their bodies.

They're both shaking while they continue their movements lazily, greedily taking every last drop of this feeling that they can get. When they're both too sensitive to keep going, Louis finally pulls out of Harry and they collapse onto the bed, boneless and breathing heavily.

Louis fights off the sleep that threatens to take him under and glances over at Harry, whose eyes are glazed with exhaustion and happiness and something else Louis can't put his finger on.

"Alright?" he whispers.

Harry just answers him with a wide, beaming smile before turning on his side to wrap his limbs around Louis and then they're hugging each other again and Louis wonders how it's possible that he can never get enough of this boy.

"I should be asking you that," Harry mumbles into his chest before popping up to address him properly, "I know today was terrible. Are you alright? I mean, not just now, but..."

"Yeah," Louis breathes and he hopes his smile is enough to convince Harry that he's okay, because he is now.

"I am. I'm sorry for today. I'm sorry for blowing up like that."

"No need to apologize," Harry laughs, "You didn't do anything to me."

And Louis stops and realizes he's right, that he never once directed his anger at Harry. He'd never even felt agitated with the younger boy at all. He winces a little at the thought of Liam, Niall and Zayn though. He'd definitely need to apologize to them later.

"Okay," he concedes, "but I did put you in an awkward situation. I love what we do, Harry. I love the band and the touring and the fans. I don't know what happened today. It was just one thing after another, I suppose. Little, stupid things that I let get to me. I just- I just don't want you to ever feel like I'm making you choose."

There's a pregnant pause and Harry's brows come together slightly. He tries to look at Louis directly, but mostly is only able to watch his own fingers as they trace tiny circles into the older boy's skin.

"I think I'm always gonna choose you, though." He dares to meet Louis' eyes nervously before adding softly, "I hope that doesn't scare you."

Louis pauses, realizing that it does. It fucking terrifies him sometimes - how big this thing is - how permanent and irreversible it feels. Like he couldn't turn back now even if he wanted to, not ever.

But he thinks he's never been more okay with being this afraid, too. So there's that.

He grips Harry behind the neck and pulls him up, catching his mouth firmly with hands trembling in his hair. Harry kisses him back with fervor.

When they break apart Harry nuzzles against Louis' jaw and lets his eyes slip shut.

"I do, you know?"

Louis' voice pulls him back, his heart suddenly heavy again.

"Love you, I mean." He swallows heavily, blushing to his ears. "A lot, actually."

He can feel Harry smile into his throat and his long fingers curl into his hip.

"Does it count this time?" he adds.

Harry laughs, plays along.

"I don't know..."

"Oh, come off it. We're not still doing it."

"True, but you're still basking in the aftermath of my amazing sex skills, so..."

Louis barks out a laugh, "Okay,  _confident_. Because you did all the work, didn't you?" He digs his fingers into Harry's ribs playfully, the younger boy laughing loudly and rolling away from the assaulting digits. Louis follows him, rolling on top of his body until he has him pinned.

"Okay, okay! I guess it counts," he concedes between fits of laughter, "But you might have to remind me again tomorrow. Especially when i'm annoying you."

"Not possible. You never annoy me," Harry rolls his eyes but Louis continues before he can say anything, "But I will tell you tomorrow.  _And_  the day after.  _And_  thirty years from now, too, when you're old and wrinkled."

"Wrinkled? In thirty years I won't even be fifty! You, on the other hand..."

Louis playfully noses him in his cheek, smile still reaching his eyes.

"Okay...forty then."

The playfulness dies down a notch and warm smiles break across both their faces as Louis' head hovers inches from his own. Harry's heart does something funny in his chest and he wonders why the thought of them together so far in the future, the fact that Louis can imply it so easily, doesn't feel strange, but instead good and comfortable and inevitable all at once.

"Okay," he breathes, "But I'm holding you to that."

And then he leans up, connects their mouths again one last time before they let sleep take them under.

They sleep through the rest of the afternoon and night, not waking until the sun is on their faces the next morning, shining through the thick plexiglass window.

They meet up with the rest of the boys at noon for interview prep and when Louis sees Liam he playfully slaps his bum and ruffles his hair, much to the younger boy's confusion. And when Zayn comes into sight he's immediately tackled to the ground by Louis, who places a sloppy kiss to his cheek (and it's as close to an actual apology as they're going to get).

"Oi! I'm gettin' whiplash over here," Zayn laughs, rubbing the spit from his face before he shoots a look at an amused Harry, "Hazza, what did you do to calm the beast and can you teach it to me?"

Harry's infamous bark of laughter erupts before he can stop it and Louis' face goes red before he simply laughs and flips Zayn off, who looks a little confused but mostly just happy so he doesn't question it.

"Well," Liam's voice pipes in, "Whatever it was, keep it up. You're a nightmare when you're pissy, mate."

Louis sticks his tongue out at Liam and pinches Zayn's cheek before getting up and walking back over to Harry. He whispers something in his ear and Liam sees the younger boy bounce back on his heels, biting into his cheeks to keep from smiling.

He thinks no matter how long he knows them, he'll never properly understand those two. He's never seen anything quite like it though, so he doesn't feel too bad about that.

Later, when their usual round of interviews starts, Liam ignores security's attempts at trying to seat him between Harry and Louis, and tries to not notice how utterly pleasant the rest of the day is because of it.

He smiles fondly when they're all walking back to the car and Louis stumbles a bit on the uneven pavement, lets a shaking sigh go.

Because then there's Harry, there, centering him.

Liam might not understand how the universe works, how some people find each other and it's like something snapping into focus. He doesn't know if he's ever even felt it himself. But this, here--he's pretty sure that's it.

He likens Louis to a kite--all bright, blinding, colorful and windswept--a hurricane of constant movement, and he maybe worries about him more than sometimes because of it. But he thinks it will probably all be okay, too, just as long as Harry's there to pull him back, anchor him until he's steady, steady.  
  



End file.
